


Learning Curve

by QueenPersephoneofHades



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Drabble Series, F/M, Fluff, Humor, I am such a sap omg, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-03-30 20:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3950041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenPersephoneofHades/pseuds/QueenPersephoneofHades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's still not sure how to be human. She's still not sure how to be normal. Scarlet Vision drabbles based on prompts from Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Right Here

**Author's Note:**

> I am shipper trash. Total and complete shipper trash. Join me in my garbage pile of feels.

“You know, it’s okay to cry.”

Wanda stared up at him, uncomprehending, as if that was the last thing she’d expected to hear out of his mouth this morning.

Honestly, it was the last thing he’d meant to say; in the weeks since the Sokovia battle, despite hardly sharing four words with the girl, Vision would have done anything at all to ensure Wanda Maximoff never shed another tear in her life.

The quiet sobbing that had come from her bedroom every night had thrown him into a constant loop of terrible guilt and uneasy hesitance; on the one hand, crying alone in her room suggested she  _wanted_ to be alone. But his recent studies into the process of grief suggested support for the grieving individual, care given by their friends and loved ones.

Wanda had no loved ones, not anymore, and none of the other Avengers had seemed to notice the dark circles under her eyes, so…

Here we are.

He fidgeted, trying not to let her penetrating stare unnerve him and failing mightily.

“I meant,” he rectified, “That requesting the company of someone who could sympathize with your current… situation… is not out of the ordinary. Nor is it something to be ashamed of; sorrow is one of the hardest emotions humans can overcome, and therefore it would be foolhardy for anyone to judge you for requiring aid.”

She just kept staring, and he really felt like phasing through the floor right about now - he could do that, figured it out a day or two after the battle - and never coming back to bother her again.

When her eyes seemed to grow shinier (and not with a familiar red glow), the feeling grew even worse.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, floating backward, ready to flee and admit the entire thing a failure, “I didn’t mean-”

She stepped forward.

A hand caught his retreating wrist, and squeezed when he tried to tug it away.

He paused as the thinnest smile imaginable shone through her already falling tears.

“Would you stay with me?” she rasped, her lovely voice weighed down by all the dark nights spent alone in her room with nothing but her brother’s memory to keep her company.

He nodded immediately.

Perhaps it wasn’t a failure after all.


	2. Lesson Learned

“I’m flirting with you.”

“I noticed,” Wanda admitted, trying not to let the smirk on her face widen even more, “It wasn’t the best I’ve heard, but I noticed.”

Vision twitched, an uncomfortable expression on his face. “Well, Mr. Stark didn’t exactly program JARVIS with flirting in mind.”

Her smirk softened into a genuine smile, and she took pity on the poor guy; he’d been mighty uneasy the entire time he’d been ‘flirting’, as he called it; it was rude to laugh at him for it, like Sam and Rhodey were not-so-subtly doing not far off. Then again, the thing causing them amusement could also be her silently glaring brother, whose sour expression was only growing darker as she turned to the android doing his best to gain her attention.

“You don’t want to take flirting lessons from Tony Stark anyway, Vizh; it’s the money and the suit that gets him dates, nothing else. Trust me, Pepper would’ve taken off ages ago if that weren’t the case,” she assured him, grinning as Pietro’s glare grew even more toxic at the nickname.

Vision’s eyebrows - if they could be called that - drew together in perplexed thought. “From what JARVIS observed, Miss Potts always harbored genuine affection for Mr. Stark; he was simply to flippant and ignorant to see it.”

“I know, Vizh, I was joking.”

Vision tilted his head, mystified. “Joking can be applied to flirting, yes?”

“Yes,” she added over the louder snickers coming from the corner. She resisted the urge to hex both Avengers to kingdom come; she’d be visiting their dreams tonight, and not in the pleasant way.

Vision breathed out a sigh, shaking his head. “Humans are weird,” he muttered.

“That we are. It might take a while to get used to that,” Wanda shrugged helplessly.

“Oh, I doubt I will get used to it; but in the pursuit of such a goal, I shall do my best to understand ‘flirting’.”

“I could teach you how to flirt if you want,” Wanda offered, and without even turning her head she snapped her fingers and sent her charging brother tripping to the floor, interrupting his attempt to storm into the conversation. That was the final straw; both Rhodey and Sam howled with laughter, though this did nothing to cover Pietro’s loud cursing in Russian.

She smiled pleasantly, a tad far too innocently, but Vision’s answering smile didn’t seem the least bit perturbed.

“I would like that, Miss Maximoff.”

“Anytime, Vizh.”


	3. Drinking Buddies

“Are you drunk?”

“Goo’ queshion,” Wanda slurred, pointing a hand at the android she was speaking to, nearly tipping her entire glassful of wine onto the floor; only the quick reflexes of the non-intoxicated of the duo saved the white carpet under their feet from gaining a splash of color.

Vision quickly, carefully liberated the woman of her glass, setting it on a table not far away and offering a steadying hand as the brunette tilted on her feet, blinking sluggishly and grinning far wider then she normally did.

“Wanda,” he said slowly, trying to grab hold of her sleeve in at least an attempt to keep her upright, “What did you drink?”

“I ‘unno,” she admitted, hiccuping briefly; he led her to a very expensive-looking couch and let her flop onto it bonelessly, hair spread out behind her like a dark halo and giggling gleefully, “Wine n‘stuff. I’ss good stuff; you shou’ try it.”

“I’d rather not,” he declined, trying to ignore the mild stab of panic at the back of his mind; she’d had no more than three sips, and she was acting like this? His eyes trailed suspiciously to the glass on the table.

Had something been in it…?

Clamping down on the panic again - human emotions were so hard to control; he had no idea how they could do this 24/7 - he activated his communicator, resisting the urge to smile as Wanda curled up like a cat and hummed a lullaby under her breath, too tired to remember the words properly.

“Yo,” said Hawkeye on the other end, and Vision jumped on the connection.

“Wanda had a sip of the red wine; I believe it may have something a little more than alcohol in it. She didn’t even finish the glass and she’s already-”

“You let Wanda drink wine?” cut off Pietro’s voice, and Vision blinked; instead of the outraged, self-righteous big-brother-knows-best speech he’d expected, the elder twin sounded on the verge of outright laughter.

“Yyyeeeessss?” Vision drawled, trying not to cringe; Quicksilver was difficult on a good day, but with his sister drunk and possibly poisoned-

“Oh, well, don’t be surprised if she passes out; Wanda’s a total lightweight. Even a sniff of liquor and she’s drunk as a skunk. She’ll be fine in a few hours, no problem,” Pietro revealed, now audibly laughing on the other end like this was not the most stressful moment of Vision’s life.

The android deflated at the words, a relieved smile lifting his lips as Wanda tugged lightly on his cape, pouting childishly.

“I wan’ more,” she moaned, pointing at the table.

“What the hell?” demanded Pietro, and Vision realized that sounded more than a bit suggestive.

“Thank you, Quicksilver, that will be all,” he said, quickly cutting off the connection before the speedster could scream at him; he floated over to the couch, carefully pulling Wanda into a sitting position. “Come on, let’s get out of here before your brother jeopardizes the mission to kill me.”

“Carry me,” Wanda demanded, holding out her arms in clear invitation.

Vision rolled his eyes, but smiled.

“As you wish.”


	4. 'Moving On' Doesn't Mean 'Forgive'

“Have you ever  _wanted_  to  **hate**  someone?”

Vision blinked, looking over at the young woman leaning against the banister beside him, brown eyes darker than he could recall seeing them.

The mind within her head was roiling, crimson whips of anger and hurt swirling within, dangerous just to look at.

Cautiously, he stretched out his own mind, trying to calm her. He wasn’t really afraid of her hurting him; he was more afraid of what she’d do to  _herself._

“No, I can’t recall having a cause to hate anyone so much,” he said softly, edging closer to her; he could see the source of her murderous intent, but it would be better if she admitted it herself.

Wanda bit her lips, torn; she obviously wanted to rant, but she could probably tell how unstable her emotions and her powers were now.

But he wasn’t afraid, and he made sure she felt that; he tempered her rage with his steadfast calm, kept hold of her rationality even when it threatened to fly off amid the hurricane brewing in her head.

She met his gaze, unwavering, and finally burst out:

“I hate Ultron. I hate him. I  _hate_  him so much. I know he’s your brother or your father or both and I know he’s dead and there’s no use in hating a dead man, but I just-

I just  ** _hate_**  him!”

She smacked a palm onto the railing under hand, and a burst of scarlet light broke the granite in two. She didn’t even wince at the loud  _crack,_  just glared hard at the stone as if it were Ultron himself.

“I know it’s useless,” she added before Vision could say a word, “I know he’s gone. But he took my- he took Pietro. He took Pietro, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

Her eyes rose, and he felt the worst stab of guilt and sympathy when he saw they were full of tears. “I just hate him,” she whispered.

He reached forward, took her hand; he wasn’t afraid of her, never had been. He held her limp hand in his, grip tight and grounding.

“… to feel that way, no matter how irrational it may seem, is simply human,” he said quietly, free hand going to her face to wipe a few tears away. Wanda should never cry, he decided; it hurt too much to watch. “Ultron is gone, yes, and holding a grudge is often fruitless; but if it makes you feel better, you don’t have to let go of it. You don’t have to forgive Ultron for what he did to move forward.”

She blinked, wide-eyed.

He smiled softly.

“I think… unique life form or not, I think I hated him too.”

‘ _For doing this to you,_ ’ he added silently as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, ‘ _For making you sad._ ’

Irrational or not, hate was a human emotion. And in this instance, it felt more than a little right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the angst. How I have missed you.


	5. Is It Selfish to Protect?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wants to defend her, protect her, keep her safe; even if she can handle all that herself.

“You don’t need to protect me.”

It’s softly spoken, a request, but he flinches as if it were canon fire come to rip his world apart; and, in a way, it is.

Wanda stares at him, eyes soft but jaw set stubbornly, red glittering around her fingers as she prepares to dart back out of the door, back into the fight.

The Avengers are outnumbered - as they often are - and outgunned - a rarer occurrence, but nothing they couldn’t deal with - and he’s been her shadow since the battle started, phasing through enemies and ripping them apart before they could even approach her.

She’d held her own on the ground, but it was obvious she wasn’t meeting as many enemies as the other Avengers were; they were all practically swarmed, while she took out three or four at a time, no more than that around her when Vision was at work.

It was selfish of him, foolish, but he couldn’t stop; the thought of her getting hurt, of her with blood running red on her hands instead of her power, was enough to bring a ringing to his ears and a pounding to his heart.

He couldn’t lose her; the last few months of becoming one of the Avengers would not have been possible without her kind smile and encouraging presence.

She could handle herself, he  _knew_  that, but even the possibility of something going wrong-

The crimson light faded as her hand rested against his cheek, pulling his distant gaze back to hers. She could read his thoughts; as she’d said long ago, she could see what he truly feared.

The smile that lifted her lips was warm, solemn but hopeful.

“I’ll be all right, Vizh,” she assured him quietly, and he rested their foreheads together, trying to convince himself of the fact. “I’ll be fine.”

He could almost believe it; somewhere deep down, he knew it was a fact not easily contradicted, but still…

He worried.

“I suppose that is just another human thing I’ll have to live with,” he acknowledged, and it felt like something was squeezing his heart.

Her smile widened. “Yeah, but worry helps; just so long as it doesn’t turn to paranoia. I don’t need that in my life.”

He started, a bit surprised at the joke, and then she was pulling away, scarlet wreathing around her once again.

“You first?” she offered, nodding toward the door.

He nodded.

The villains of this story didn’t stand a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea who they're fighting lmao.


	6. Surprise, Surprise; Will You Be Mine?

Vision keeps fidgeting all the way through the mission debrief.

Wanda notices because she sits directly across from him, and any movement from him at all aside from breathing and blinking is uncommon when he’s listening to Cap or Nat talk about important details and tactic analysis, and not at all because she’s in the habit of staring at him any chance she gets.

Nope. Definitely not the second one.

Anyone who says otherwise is getting an immediate hex to the face, especially Sam, because that man really needs to get a new hobby outside of ribbing the Scarlet Witch about her ‘adorable’ interactions with her boyfriend. Partner. Whatever.

Twitchy Vision. Odd thing to witness, really. He doesn’t twiddle or tap his fingers like a normal person, because he is a living synthetic android and therefore everything he does is not normal by most standards. Instead, his fingers flex, tightening into fists briefly before releasing, straightening out to lay flat on the table, before the cycle repeats and he looks ready to punch something again.

Wanda’s kind of half-hoping the potential punch is going to be aimed at Scott when Steve finishes the discussion with a “Take a break this week, guys. You’ve earned it.”

“Barely,” muttered Natasha, who’s always very verbal about her disapproval with the new recruits efforts on the training field, but Steve shushes her with a look and they’re released without incident.

Wanda immediately stands, fully prepared to grab her boyfriend-partner-whatever and ask exactly what it is that’s bothering him, but she doesn’t even get the chance to push in her chair before he actually floats over the table and lands beside her, oblivious to the displeased tongue click from Steve and the quiet “What even” from a rapidly blinking Scott not far off.

“Wanda,” he said, accented voice more than enough to make the woman’s heart skip a beat; she used to get pissed that just his voice could make her practically melt, but now it’s just one of the things she really, _really_ likes about him.

“Vizh,” she returned, raising an eyebrow at his uncommon way of approach.

Dating a guy who was so completely inhuman had its moments. “Got something on your mind?”

He started at the question, as if he were afraid she’d read his mind already. She gave him a flat look. ‘ _Really? You think that little of me?_ ’ He looked a bit sheepish at the silent admonishment.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to assume anything, but I have-” he winced “-a _surprise_ for you.”

Wanda’s left eyebrow joined her other one in meeting her hairline. “A _surprise_?” she repeated, italics audible.

“Yes.” The android huffed a breath, looking – dare she say it – _nervous_ for a moment, before quickly steeling himself and looking her in the eye. “How would you like to go on a date tonight?”

The brunette broke into a wide smile, eyes sparkling. “Okay, maybe it’s _you_ reading _my_ mind. Where to?”

* * *

 “Okay then, Mr. Mysterious,” she smirked, licking a dab of whipped cream off of her finger with deliberate slowness, “What is this all about? My favorite meal, with my favorite flowers on the table, followed by my favorite movie, followed by my favorite ice cream. With sprinkles. I love being pampered, don’t get me wrong, but if you keep this going I’ll start getting suspicious something more than a date is up.”

That wins a smile out of him; it’s wobbly and a little strained, but her humor is enough to ground him in the moment.

He’s been Mr. Fidgety all evening, from the moment they entered the restaurant to the moment they left the ice cream parlor, making fists at the table and tugging awkwardly at his cufflinks – he looks pretty fucking fancy in a suit, all purple-red skin and fine, expensive fabrics that compliment his unusual artificial skin color, and _god damn_ if he doesn’t look adorable with a bowtie – all around looking like a little awkward dress-up doll and if he doesn’t say something soon she’s gonna smack him, cause this is getting ridiculous.

He fumbled awkwardly with the small plastic dish his portion of ice cream had come in, staring at the melted remains lazily swirling around at the bottom.

She winced a bit – she hoped the whole seductively-licking-ice-cream-off-of-finger thing hadn’t been too much for the poor, socially inept android – and leaned toward him, sympathetic smile gracing her features. “Vizh, we’ve been over this, even if we’re dating you don’t need to treat me like a princess-”

“But I want to.”

The interruption makes her pause.

He seemed to wilt slightly at her silence, get a little smaller, but then he squared his shoulders determinedly and kept talking. He still won’t meet her eyes.

“I _want_ to treat you like royalty. I want to pamper you with ice cream because sugar makes you talk a lot, and I like hearing your voice when you’re excited. I want to take you to movies and dinners and operas and dances, because you enjoy all those things and if you enjoy something, I will surely enjoy it too. I want to spend time with you outside of training and missions, but not just on dates and days off; we’re… _dating,_ if it can be called that, and I don’t wish to smother you, but… I want to spend every second of my life with you, Wanda, even if it means all we do is fight villains and save the world every other day or running around the world spending Tony’s money on trinkets and fancy restaurants and movie tickets.”

Wanda was floored by such a bold, hefty statement, so much so that the only reply she could offer was a strangled “Uh…?”

Vision jumped at the sound, as if just realizing she was right next to him during his sweet little speech, and he hurriedly chucked his plastic cup away – it sailed past the nearby trash can and splattered on the ground, but who the hell cared – one hand plunging into his pocket while the other quickly snatched Wanda’s left hand, as if afraid she would retreat if given the chance.

As it was, Wanda was too startled to do anything other than stare as her boyfriend-partner- _something_ dropped to one knee on the soggy sidewalk outside of Baskin Robbins, hand reemerging from his pocket to reveal a tiny red-velvet box that she recognized immediately.

She stiffened, blinking rapidly, head spinning at an impossible rate; now?

He was asking her _now?!_

It wasn’t like she’d never entertained the thought, but-

Casual flirting and occasional dates were one thing, but there was a pretty clear reason why neither of them knew exactly what to call each other.

Were they friends? Absolutely.

Partners? Of course.

Boyfriend/girlfriend? Who the hell knew!

Labels were never something Wanda liked to assign to herself, and she knew Vision didn’t like them either; didn’t like being called a ‘robot’ or ‘tin can’, no matter if they were silly nicknames from Rhodey or Tony.

They’d danced around the issue plenty of times, but instead of discussing it like real adults they’d be distracted by the next mission to fight HYDRA or AIM or the weekly supervillain wannabe and lose focus on it all over again.

It wasn’t moving too fast, exactly – they knew each other well, very well, perhaps even too well, from the times they’d waltzed in and out of each other’s heads; they enjoyed each other’s company, got along like two peas in a pod; he understood her jokes to an extent, and she was always supporting him in developing his own sense of humor that wasn’t tainted by Tony’s lewd history; he’d been a great help during those first few months after Sokovia, god only knew if she could have made it without him; she liked helping him figure out who he was, loved making him laugh and hearing his thoughts on everyday things, so mundane to her yet so fascinating to him.

And she loved him, really, if she was being honest with herself; neither of them had ever said it, exactly, but she’d felt the adoration saturating his thoughts every time she laughed or said something stupid, when she smiled and when she flew past him… and perhaps he’d heard it from her too, when his eyes lit up in excitement when he figured out something knew, when his feet slipped on the dance floor and he’d caught himself by floating mid-fall, when he said something so naively profound about the lovely blue orb they lived on that her heart swelled fit to burst.

Marriage was kind of a _huge deal_ , and their strange little romance was unconventional at best, and real love or not, she didn’t think she was ready for such a leap-

He finally looked up and caught her eye, and all her doubts were swirling around his head too – she could hear them, clear as day, he didn’t even try suppressing them – but his eyes were wide, hopeful, nervous; his face held nothing but sincerity, even though his entire body was tensed and uncertain and very, very afraid.

He was already prepared for a negative answer, but he was taking the plunge anyway.

Her heart squeezed, and – as ridiculous and cliché as it might sound – her fears melted away as quickly as they’d come.

He didn’t know a damn thing about this either.

But he was willing to brave the uncertainties.

For her.

Before he could injure himself trying to open the box one-handed, she reached her free hand out – her remaining, melted ice cream floated in the air on a cloud of red magic – and opened the little box, plucking the ring out with delicate fingers.

She examined it for a moment, brought it right up to her eyes, noting that her partner had stopped breathing but not bothering to acknowledge it.

It was pretty, simple, a thin gold band with a small red ruby set on the top, and it sparkled conspicuously; definitely a gift from Tony.

She let her eyes dart back to his, just once, and there was no wide-eyed, pathetic puppy dog look; just warm, serene affection, hardly doing a thing to mask the typhoon of love and anxiety and chaos going on inside his head.

She smiled so wide her cheeks hurt.

“You dork,” she muttered, and her heart fluttered when he chuckled.

“That makes two of us, Miss Maximoff.”

“Oh, shut up! We both know the guy literally made out of sci-fi voodoo stuff is the bigger dork,” she said with a fierce nod, and he managed a helpless shrug despite the tension in his shoulders.

She rolled her eyes. “I assume the others are watching us?”

“Most definitely,” he agreed.

“Well, they’re not invited to the wedding,” she decided, and she slipped the ring on her finger, and he surged upwards to press a kiss to her lips so fiercely they actually started floating, and there was a strangled roar as their fellow Avengers wearing ridiculously inventive civilian disguises burst out of the ice cream parlor and surrounded them with cheers, and there were still plenty of things they’d need to work out; eventually.

Not right now, though.

Right now, they could relax, and snuggle, and tell off their idiot teammates for being total stalkers.

Right now, they were happy, and that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got out of hand really fucking fast what the fuck.


End file.
